


Valentine's Day

by KagSesshlove



Series: Grade School [11]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, DCU
Genre: Gen, KeepStephAwayFromDami2k17, Moral of the story, batbros, batfam, dami tried, dick also tried, holidays beget conspiracy theories, it goes as well as you'd expect, no one cares, note, self mutilation is never okay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-13
Updated: 2017-03-13
Packaged: 2018-10-04 06:24:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,847
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10270247
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KagSesshlove/pseuds/KagSesshlove
Summary: Imagine that Damian goes to a regular school full time. And has to do things that normal grade-schoolers have to do. Like make Valentines’ Day Cards.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t own anything.
> 
> Warnings: Contains the most precious individual in the world.

“Okay, we’ve got chocolate and candy. Who gets candy for Valentine’s Day?” Brown asked, frowning at the piles she had sorted on the floor.

“Grayson,” Damian answered, turning up the volume on the television in hopes of drowning out whatever rant Brown was about to go on.

“Dick likes options,” Cain said, shrugging.

“Valentine’s Day is for chocolate only. Those are the rules. Other candy is ridiculous!”

“No,” Damian growled. “What’s ridiculous is that Grayson bought all of this _junk_ in hopes that I would take it to school and pass it out to my classmates. As if they deserve my consideration.”

“That’s the spirit, Dami,” Brown said, smirking.

Damian shot her a glare and snorted. “If you eat all of that, you’re going to get fat. You’re barely useful as it is; it’d be pointless to keep you in the field then.”

She rolled her eyes, an unsatisfactory response, but Damian had learned to take what he could get from Brown. She rarely ever rose to his baiting.

( _Annoying.)_

“I’m not going to eat it _all._ We’re going to share. Right, Cass?”

Cain nodded. “Dami can have some too.”

“I don’t want any,” he grumbled, crossing his arms.

“Your loss,” Brown said, grinning. “So, Cass, what colors do you want? Pink, red, or white?”

“Hmm. What colors, Dami?”

Damian stared at his sister blankly. Like he cared what color she painted her nails.

She stared back.

He sighed. “All of them.”

Cain nodded. “Good choice.”

“That is actually a good choice. I’m impressed. If you want, I’ll even paint-“

“Go die, Brown.”

She cackled and twisted open one bottle. “You’re no fun. You’re never going to get a girlfriend if you keep up that attitude – and then you’ll be all alone on the most romantic holiday of the year!”

“Romantic relationships are an unnecessary distraction, Brown.”

She clucked her tongue. “You’ll understand when you’re older.”

He scowled at her and turned the volume up on the television. “Stop talking.”

She snickered. “What do you think, Cass. Is romance a waste of time?”

Cain shrugged. “Depends. It’s hard to date,” she said, gesturing to the scars covering her bare arms.

Brown scoffed. “Please, Cass. You’re gorgeous. Besides, guys love girls with scars,” she grinned and flexed her arm, pointing to a scar along her bicep.

Damian snorted. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Brown looked at him with a grin. “Uh, it’s pretty self-explanatory. Scars make women more attractive. Men can’t get enough.”

Damian scowled, raising an eyebrow. “I haven’t seen any men chasing after you, Brown.”

“That’s because I hide my scars so I don’t have to beat them off with a stick,” she shot back.

“I was under the impression you hid your scars to avoid revealing your identity. I should have known you weren’t that conscientious.”

“You’re a tiny jerk.”

“I hate you,” Damian growled.

“Yeah, well, you’re just jealous that me and Cass have a bunch of scars and are super popular but all the girls at your school are scared of you!”

“I sincerely doubt that anyone likes _you_ , Brown.”

“You know Tim and I were dating, right? And he’s the pickiest person I have ever met! What do you think made him go out with me?”

“You smashed a brick in his face,” Cain stated.

“Exactly,” Damian said with a smirk. “He’s a masochist, but we already knew that.”

Brown rolled her eyes. “Whatever. You’ll totally get it when you’re older, Dami; girls with scars are _hot.”_

Damian snorted and went back to watching television, but couldn’t help thinking over what Brown had said. He wasn’t sure if it was true or not, but he couldn’t discount Brown’s words completely.

Drake and Brown had been in a relationship, and that said more about her bad taste than his.

He’d never heard of his sister dating anyone, but he supposed she was fairly attractive. Perhaps her scars contributed to that.

And his father and mother had been involved with one another; his mother was beautiful – and most certainly scarred.

Damian frowned. The last thing he wanted to do was credit Brown with being reasonable or _truthful,_ of all things, but it did seem like – in this _one_ particular instance – she was right.

“If scarring is the reason men find women attractive, how do women not in our line of work find boyfriends and husbands?”

Cain shook her head, smiling slightly.

“Am I a bad person?” Brown asked, staring at the ceiling.

_(She’s ridiculous.)_

“Yes,” Damian affirmed. “Now answer the question.”

“Well, with an attitude like that, why should I?”

“Men don’t _only_ like scars,” Cain interjected.

Damian furrowed his brow. “Just one factor of many, hmm? But an important one, no?”

“Why does this matter to you?” Brown asked, practically shouting.

Damian arched an eyebrow at her, sneering. “I don’t expect you to understand, Brown, but I prefer to accumulate as much knowledge as possible.”

She sighed heavily. “I don’t even know how to feel right now.”

“Useless,” Damian asserted. “You should feel useless. Thank you for the information, Cain. _You_ have once again proven yourself to be an invaluable asset.”

“Okay, pointedly leaving me out is such a passive-aggressive Tim move.”

“I will end you, Brown.”

“ _Tim. Move.”_

Damian glared at her and stood up. He grabbed the remote and snatched up as many chocolates as he could carry, sneering as he passed by her.

She squawked indignantly. “How could you? You could’ve at least taken the candy!”

“I did that on purpose, Brown!”

“I hope your teacher calls home tomorrow!”

Damian scoffed as he stalked out of the room.

( _Like that'll happen.)_

* * *

“All right, class! It’s time to open up our bags and make our Valentine’s cards!”

Damian scowled at Andrews’ nauseating enthusiasm. Then he scowled at the general atmosphere of the classroom.

( _Disgusting.)_

Damian would have preferred blood spatter to the decorations that Andrews had put up. Anyone with half a brain and a basic comprehension of the principles of aesthetics would have preferred blood spatter to the decorations that Andrews had put up.

Andrews, of course, had neither. Not really surprising, but she still managed to lower herself to new depths as time passed.

So, Damian was forced to suffer through tacky red hearts, an excess of pink and white ruffles, and shoddy cutouts of an ugly winged baby holding a dangerous weapon while wearing a diaper – something the Arrows would undoubtedly appreciate, but that no normal person would consider anything other than disturbing.

And it wasn’t just school. Only his father’s quick thinking had prevented Grayson from sullying the manner with similar décor.

Valentine’s day had quickly surpassed Christmas to become his least favorite holiday. It was almost impressive, really.

Damian frowned up at Andrews as she placed a basket of supplies on his desk.

Arts and crafts? Really? He wasn’t a child.

She gave him a strange smile and continued on to the next desk.

Damian looked down at the basked she had left, tipping it over and glaring at the contents.

Construction paper. Markers. Stickers. Glue. Tape. Scissors.

_Glitter._

Damian snarled silently.

“Okay,” Andrews said, clapping her hands and smiling. “Well, how about we look at our chocolate first and then make our cards?”

Damian heaved a sigh and grabbed the bag hanging off the side of his desk. He stared at it, unimpressed.

Andrew grinned at them. “Everyone, thank your classmates for the candy they gave you!”

“I will do no such thing!” Damian protested.

Andrews whimpered oddly.

“You expect me to accept strange food from an unknown source?”

“Damian… please. It’s from your classmates…”

“And how do I know that they haven’t taken their time to poison the chocolates before giving them to me? This would be the easiest way to murder me should any of them desire to, and I have no doubt that more than one of them harbor petty grudges against me,” Damian stated, standing from his seat and glaring at his classmates suspiciously.

“... I don’t think your classmates want to kill you, Damian,” Andrews refuted.

Weakly, at that. In fact, she didn’t sound like she believed a word she was saying.

“Tt. Whatever you do or do not believe is of no concern, Andrews. The facts remain. Or, perhaps there isn’t an individual grudge. Perhaps one of these students is a mass murderer and they poisoned all of the chocolates before handing them out in order to commit a massacre. Killers are getting younger every day.”

( _I would know.)_

Andrews looked like she wanted to cry.

Which was good. She should feel like crying in the face possible depravity and her carelessness in dealing with it.

“Did you screen these chocolates before they were passed out, Andrews? How can you be sure they aren’t poisoned? How can you be sure that all of your students won’t end up dead because you encouraged this foolish tradition that leaves me and my peers vulnerable to attack from anyone wishing us harm? Did you consider our safety? Or were you concerned only with satisfying your own childhood fantasies of receiving Valentine’s Day chocolates?”

“I- If you don’t want your candy, you can give it to someone else, Damian.”

Damian narrowed his eyes. It was like she wasn’t even listening to him. “And give out candy that could be compromised? Do you even care about what happens to your students, Andrews? Or are you being willfully blind?”

Andrews’ shoulders shook slightly, making Damian frown. He wanted her to feel guilt at her reckless endangerment, but he didn’t actually want her to break down in the middle of class.

“Calm yourself, Andrews,” Damian ordered. “This situation can be easily remedied; all of us need to throw away our chocolate.”

The outcry from his classmates was deafening.

( _They’re more concerned with eating candy than living. Idiots.)_

“Fools!” Damian snarled, cutting their protests off. “Would you rather die?!”

Honestly, the effort Damian put in to protecting civilians only to be met with illogical protests…

It was hard to believe sometimes.

“But-“

“No ‘buts’, Callahan. If you want to die, you’re welcome to gorge yourself. Don’t say I didn’t warn you. Not that you’d be able to in the first place. You’d be dead.”

Damian stared at him coolly while walking to the trash can. He threw his bag away and cocked an eyebrow.

It was easy to see when Callahan cracked.

The boy sniffled slightly, but stood from his chair, grabbing his bag and walking over to Damian, tossing it in the trash.

The rest of the students followed hesitantly, some crying more than others.

Their emotional distress was a price Damian was more than willing to pay for their continued living.

Damian turned to Andrews, nodding at her, certain she appreciated the actions he had taken for the class’ overall protection.

She crumpled further in on herself.

Damian’s brow furrowed.

( _What’s wrong with her now? I don’t- Ah…)_

“Not to worry, Andrews. I have no problem going around the school and informing the other classes of the dangers that they’re in. I only hope I can reach them before it’s too late.”

“No!” She shouted, straightening up. “I’ll do it. I’m the teacher.”

Damian nodded approvingly, walking back to his seat as the last student threw away her bag.

“Of course. It’s good to see you taking responsibility, Andrews. You should take some pride in that.”

She was shaking again, harder this time.

Damian arched an eyebrow.

“I’ll- I’ll just go take care of that. Class… Why don’t you start on your cards?”

She shot Damian a look he couldn’t decipher, but he chose not to focus on it. After all, she was heading out of the door to warn the other students and teachers. He could let her strangeness slide this once.

He sat down and scowled.

Cards.

Pointless sentimentality.

( _Ugh.)_

He might as well get started, or he’d just be wasting the last ten minutes of class doing nothing.

Not that this wasn’t a complete waste of time in and of itself.

He sighed, holding up a piece of red paper. He could make one for Cain, he supposed. It was reasonably expected for a little brother to give a card to his sister. Of course, if he made one for her, Brown would complain loudly about how he hadn’t given her one. Probably during patrol, just to annoy him more. So, it would be best to make her one to preempt her complaints.

Grayson would probably want one as well, but there was only so much indignity Damian could suffer. There was no way he would _encourage_ it. And there was no way Grayson wouldn’t demand to hug him after receiving a card.

He would probably _coo._

Damian cringed.

No card for Grayson.

Father and Pennyworth would both likely consider cards a waste of time, being the mature adults they were. So, thankfully, none for them.

Damian nodded and grabbed a second sheet of paper – a glaringly obnoxious pink.

( _The perfect shade for Brown’s card.)_

Damian folded each sheet in half and grabbed the glue, sneering as he drew a heart on the front of each card.

He took a breath, bracing himself as he grabbed the glitter.

He hated glitter.

“You know, I can’t wait to give this to Jake. You think he’ll be my Valentine, Ashley?”

Damian paused his work, looking over at the girl next to him with a scowl. “You sound ridiculous, Ackers.”

She jumped slightly, turning to him hesitantly. “I- why?”

“Tt. For one, romance is a waste of time. It’s a pointless institution that distracts from things that truly matter.”

After all, if his father had a girlfriend, he wouldn’t have nearly so much time to dedicate to protecting Gotham.

“It’s about priorities, Ackers. You can either spend your time on frivolous pursuits or you can do something worthwhile. Besides, you’re far too young to be concerned with procreation, so entering into a romantic entanglement would be doubly pointless.”

Damian nodded sharply and went back to his cards.

Honestly. This holiday was filling people’s heads with all sorts of foolishness.

“I-I- I just like Jake,” Ackers responded quietly.

Damian rolled her eyes, continuing his work. “Well, if you insist on pursuing this, and refuse to listen to reason, the least you can do is put effort into it. A simple card won’t be enough to attract anyone’s attention.”

“Well, what should she do?” Bennett interjected, leaning across her friend’s desk.

“A-Ashley!”

“What? He’s a boy. Sort of.”

“I am very clearly male, Bennett,” Damian replied, pursing his lips at her.

She nodded. “Exactly. And you know a bunch of stuff. So, what should she do if she wants Jake to like her?”

Damian suppressed a sigh.

This was what his life had come to? Giving relationship advice to his female classmates?

He was vaguely ashamed.

Still, if it was in his power to help his classmates, he should make something of an effort. It might even get Grayson off his back about his lack of “friendships”.

“Well,” Damian started, “Ackers doesn’t have much to offer in general, given her age, assets, and capabilities – or lack thereof.”

“I-is it that bad?”

Damian hummed slightly, putting the finishing touches on his cards. “It could be worse,” he admitted. “But it could certainly be better. Perhaps… Do you have any scars, Ackers?”

“Scars? I, uh no?”

“It’s a simple question,” he said, exasperated.

“I don’t.”

“What does that matter?” Bennet asked.

She was becoming increasingly annoying. It was almost commendable that she had managed to rise above the average baseline of irritation that Damian’s classmates caused.

“It should be obvious: males appreciate females more when they have ample scarring.”

“Really?” Bennet questioned.

“Don’t sound so incredulous, Bennet. You’re asking me because I have more knowledge on male preference, aren’t you?”

“Well, what do I do?” Ackers asked. “I don’t have any scars.”

Damian looked up, frowning at her. She looked like she was about to cry. He’d never hear the end of it if he made a girl cry.

Again.

“Calm down, Ackers. You don’t have enough inherently redeeming qualities to outweigh your lack of scars, but there’s a simple solution. Self-mutilation under the careful watch of a parental guardian would be advisable if you truly wish to gain the affections of… ‘Jake’.”

Damian watched the two of them exchange a confused look.

“What’s that?”

He couldn’t help sighing aloud.

What did they teach in schools?

Oh, right.

Nothing useful.

“Self-mutilation is the-“

“Aaghhhh…”

Damian looked towards the door at the strangled sound.

“Ah, Andrews, you’ve returned. Did you manage to save the rest of the school before any fatalities occurred?”

The look on her face was similar to the expression criminals made when they realized he had caught them: a normally satisfying combination of terror and dread.

In this instance, the look was anything but comforting.

( _That can only mean bad news.)_

Damian scowled darkly.

He knew he should have warned the other classes himself.

* * *

 

“Tim! Tim! It’s happening! It’s finally happening! Get the girls; come quick!”

Dick ignored Jason, an impressive feat considering he was 6 feet tall, well over 200 pounds, and yelling at the top of his lungs.

Or, not impressive at all considering Dick was consumed with dread due to the fact that the phone was ringing.

The phone was ringing.

Damian’s school was calling.

Dick had never actually thought it was possible for an entire school and its staff to be his nemesis, but…

Here they were.

“Maybe I can ignore it?” Dick wondered.

“Dick, if you don’t pick up that phone, I’ll put on your costume for tonight’s patrol and just start shooting people. Dressed as Nightwing.”

Dick gaped.

“That’s a terrifying thought,” Tim said, walking into the room with the girls trailing after him.

Steph looked inappropriately gleeful.

( _What’s wrong with this family?)_

“Please,” Jason scoffed. “His reputation could use a little tarnishing.”

“Actually, I meant you wearing his suit considering the difference in measurements. There’s really only so much trauma Gothamites can survive, Jason.”

Steph grinned. “On the bright side, the villains would take one look at him and run away in horror.”

“Oh, haha. I’ll have you know I could rock a skintight body suit.”

“Doubtful,” Tim said, raising an eyebrow.

“You know what? You can take your negativity and shove it in the box you store all of your non-derisive emotions in. I don’t need you!”

“The phone,” Cass interrupted.

Dick would have been grateful for the interruption. Really grateful, if he was being honest. That conversation was going all kinds of nowhere plus half a dozen broken vases fast.

So, yeah, he would have been grateful.

Except Cass had brought their attention back to the phone.

_That was still ringing._

Why did everyone hate him?

What had he done?

He worked really hard. He smiled at people. He gave his siblings hugs.

He _tried_ , okay?

He didn’t deserve this!

“Aren’t you going to answer it?” Jason asked, smirking.

“It’s the end of the day!” Dick protested. “Damian will be home in, like, 10 minutes! How are they calling?”

“Demon works miracles,” Tim said sagely, dropping down onto the couch.

“Preach, Tim!” Steph exclaimed, pulling Cass down on the couch with her and squishing Tim underneath the two of them.

He deserved it.

“Where’s Bruce? I need Bruce to answer this. I’m done with this school. The teachers call kids psychopaths. They call at all hours of the day-“

“It’s the middle of the afternoon,” Tim stated dryly.

“Bruce should handle this. Where is he?”

“Work,” Cass offered.

“Since when does he actually go into work?”

“Stop trying to shirk your responsibilities, Dick,” Jason demanded. “Answer the phone.”

“I’m not going to!”

“Answer it!”

“You can’t make me!”

“You owe this to us!”

“No, I really don-“

Dick stopped in his tracks, turning away from Jason to look at the phone.

It had stopped ringing.

Tears of relief weren’t pooling in his eyes, but it was a close thing.

“How could you?” Jason asked.

He sounded genuinely betrayed, which was actually kind of impressive. Or, it would be. If he weren’t serious.

There was a moment of silence.

“So, I hope you know I’m taking pictures of you in Nightwing’s suit and that I will personally terrorize you for the rest of your life if you don’t follow through with wearing that,” Tim said plainly.

“Oh my gosh, Tim, there are more important things going on here. We missed the call!” Steph protested.

“No, he’s totally right,” Jason admitted. “And you should know better, Timmy. I don’t welch on my bets.”

Tim stared at him blankly. “What do I address first? The fact that you used that phrase unironically, the fact that this wasn’t technically a bet, so saying that isn’t actually applicable, or the fact that that is patently untrue? I’m not picky.”

“You are,” Cass argued.

“I am. But I’m willing to be flexible here.”

“You know what, Tim?”

“What, Jason?”

“I’m going to pour out all of your coffee.”

“I’ll steal all your cigarettes.”

“Jokes on you: I quit!”

“Because I conditioned you.”

“Ooh!” Steph yelled, smiling.

Jason faltered. “I can’t tell if that’s true or not. And I’m honestly not sure how I’d respond if it _were._ ”

Dick dropped his head into his hands. If Jason had given up on cigarettes, that meant there was room for another bad habit in the family, right?

Dick could become an alcoholic. That might be nice.

Or he could just go eat some cereal. Actually, that sounded better. He was going to go get some cereal right now.

_*Ring*_

Dick froze.

The dread was back.

“It’s ringing again!” Jason said, pointing at the phone. “It’s the school!”

Cue sarcastic comment from Tim about stating the obvious:

“This is amazing. I’m so happy right now. Jason, this is the best thing. I didn’t think they’d call back,” Tim said, a little in awe.

“I know, Tim. I know.”

Even when his family was defying his expectations and supporting one another, they were still against him.

It’s like they wanted to see him in pain.

“Answer it!” Steph ordered.

“You know, I was going to go get some cereal, so-“

“Answer,” Cass stated, staring at him.

They were all staring at him.

What had he done to deserve this?

Dick sighed.

( _Might as well get it over with.)_

He picked up the phone, putting it on speaker when it looked like Jason was about to jump him. “Hello?”

“Uh, hello?”

It was Stacy. Correction: It was Stacy, highly stressed.

“This is Dick Grayson, can I help you?”

Maybe if he feigned ignorance and pretended that there was nothing wrong, he could will the conversation to not be as horrible as he was imagining it would be.

“Uh, hi. This is Ms. Andrews – Stacy. Damian’s teacher.”

“Yeah, I remember. Is everything okay?”

They were all snickering in the background. He wanted to call them traitors, but Jason would just call him a drama queen and Steph would laugh and Cass would shrug and Tim would tell him that they were never on his side to begin with and he just really didn’t need that right now.

He could use some support actually.

But that wasn’t happening any time soon.

“Well,” Stacy began, hesitating slightly. “Today, in class, we were passing out chocolates and making cards for Valentine’s Day. Um… well, Damian suggested that all of the chocolates were poisoned and convinced his classmates to throw all of their candy away.”

Jason had collapsed onto the arm of the couch; he looked like he was having trouble breathing. Steph and Cass were holding on to each other like their lives depended on it. Dick hadn’t seen Tim smile like that for weeks.

“I see,” Dick replied.

What else could he say?

“Ah, well, um. He wanted to tell all of the other classes about the poisoned chocolate, so I told him I would do it and stepped out of the classroom for a little while to- think.”

Think.

_Think._

AKA cry on the floor in the hallway and curse myself for ever deciding to become a teacher.

“Right. That’s… unfortunate.” That was about as neutral a word as Dick could find.

Which wasn’t promising.

“…Yes. But, then I went back to class only… he was telling his classmates about… self-mutilation.”

There was abrupt stillness.

Dick lowered his head to the table.

This was it.

This was the end.

The end of what?

Dick’s sanity, obviously.

He’d only had so much left after everything he’d been through.

“Uh… Dick?”

“I’m still here,” Dick replied emotionlessly.

“Well, what did Mr. Wayne say about therapy, again?”

There was a shrieking laugh behind him. Dick was pretty sure it was Jason.

“What was that?” Stacy asked, panicked.

“What was what? I didn’t hear anything.”

“I- are you sure? It sounded like someone was screaming.”

“No, I didn’t hear anything like that. About the… you know, what? Is he going to be in detention or something?”

“Uh… no. There’s going to be another note in his file. Two, actually. The vice-principle advised that we leave you to handle the actual discipline.”

“Okay. I’ll talk to him when he- actually, that was the door. I’m going to talk to him about it now. Thank you for calling, Stacy.”

“I- of course. Have a nice day.”

“You too.”

As soon as Dick hung up the phone, Jason, Cass, Steph, and Tim broke down laughing.

“So, you do have some restraint,” he said, rubbing the bridge of his nose.

( _Oh no. I sound like Bruce!)_

“What are you buffoons cackling about?”

Dick turned, managing a grimace in Damian’s direction. Not that he noticed, seeing as he was glaring condescendingly at the others.

They stopped laughing to look at him. Jason and Steph collapsed back in to laughter. Cass shrugged at him, smiling. Tim just stared.

He stared, and stared, and then he started grinning in a way that really just made Dick want to take a nap and block out his entire life.

“Oh. My. Gosh.”

“What?” Damian snarled, shoulders hunching defensively.

“You’re covered in glitter. You’re covered in glitter!”

Damian’s entire face went red. “Shut up, Drake! I am not!”

“He is!” Steph said, gasping sharply and hitting Jason to catch his attention. “He’s covered in it!”

“Brown-“

“Tim, Tim, why aren’t you taking pictures?” Jason demanded.

“Probably because I’m being suffocated by a combined 450 pounds’ worth of people.”

Jason stood immediately, dragging Steph and Cass off of Tim.

Dick nodded, pursing his lips. “Wow.”

“We were manhandled for the sake of pictures, Tim,” Steph said. “Take _all_ of the pictures.”

“Drake, if you get out your phone, I will ensure your destruction.”

“That’s a risk I’m willing to take,” Tim said, pulling out his phone.

Damian looked poised to run. Apparently, Dick wasn’t the only one who noticed, seeing as Jason stomped over to their youngest brother and hoisted him in the air.

Dick was pretty sure this was going down a dangerous path.

Steph cackled, clapping her hands before throwing her arms around Cass. “Is this not the best day ever?”

“Todd,” Damian said softly. “Put. Me. Down.”

“Hmm. Let me think about it and get back to you.”

“Okay!” Dick interrupted. “Can we put a pin in whatever this is?”

Preferably before blood was shed; after all, there was only so much Dick could take in one day.

They all turned to him – except Tim, who was ignoring him and taking pictures. Which was fine, as long as Damian didn’t notice, because, if he did, then he would start fighting Jason to attack Tim; and there was an 70% chance that Jason would help by launching Damian at Tim so that he could pull out his own phone to start recording.

“There are more important things to discuss.”

“Dick,” Steph began, “there really isn’t anything more important than Damian covered in glitter.”

She had a point. Damian hated glitter with a worrying passion. While Steph was probably talking about the hilariousness of Damian being covered in glitter – and it _was_ pretty funny – Dick was more concerned with how little time there was before Damian started lashing out in a glitter-induced rage.

He was already really close – especially because Jason was holding him.

Why was Jason holding him? What was wrong with Jason?

No.

Dick was getting distracted and he couldn’t _afford_ to be distracted.

“There _is_ something more important than Damian covered in glitter,” Dick retorted.

“I am not covered in glitter!”

He was _so_ in denial.

“What are you talking about, Dick?” Tim asked, slipping his phone into his pocket.

Dick rolled his eyes. “Self-mutilation.”

Jason dropped Damian. Which, wow.

( _Great big brother skills, Jay.)_

Steph gasped sharply, hugging Cass closer. “How could we forget about that?”

“Glitter is distracting,” Cass stated.

“Oh, I can’t wait to hear this,” Tim said, pulling his phone back out.

Damian shot an “I promise that you’ll regret this” glare at Jason before sniffing and turning to Dick.

“What about it?” he asked, crossing his arms and cocking an eyebrow.

Dick slumped. He really wished he had someone to commiserate him right now. Where was Bruce when you needed him? Where was _Alfred_?

( _Probably avoiding our craziness like any sane person would.)_

“Why were you telling your classmates mutilate themselves?”

“Shouldn’t it be obvious?” Damian asked. “I was helping them; I assumed you’d be pleased I was making an effort.”

“Who needs enemies?” Tim quipped.

Damian turned to Tim with a snarl. “Well, you certainly-“

“Can we get back on topic?” Dick pleaded. “How did that help, Dami?”

Damian had the gall to look exasperated with him. “Honestly, Grayson. Ackers was attempting to win the affections of another student, so I offered her my advice.”

Jason dropped onto his knees. “Babybat is giving love advice.”

“This is the best day. Ever,” Steph declared. “I’m so happy right now.”

Damian eyed them judgingly, which was completely warranted.

“Let me just… see if I got this,” Dick started. “You told your classmate to mutilate herself so her crush would like her.”

“Yes,” Damian said, nodding. “After all, males prefer females with more bodily scarring, so self-mutilation under the watchful eye of a guardian would be the best way to gain her target’s attention.”

Dick… didn’t honestly know how to feel. Because, on one hand: aww, sweet! Damian was trying to help his classmate. On the other…

Self-mutilation.

Dick took a breath, but paused, noticing the way Cass and Steph were staring at the floor.

“Please, no.” He wasn’t begging. Except he kind of was. “Cass. Steph. Please.”

“Oh, this is amazing.”

“Seriously, Tim?” Dick cried.

He shrugged unrepentantly.

Jason just kept looking at Steph, Cass, and Damian in anticipation.

“Okay,” Steph exclaimed, holding her hands up. “It’s not what you think.”

“What are you going on about, Brown?”

“We were we just talking and eating candy, and me and Cass were talking and Damian was there and I just sort of said that guys like girls with scars – because it’s hot, okay! There’s nothing wrong with that! I didn’t _do_ anything! How was I supposed to know he would take it to heart, anyway? He never listens to me!”

Damian narrowed his eyes. “Were you lying?”

“No!” Steph protested. “I was being serious! But I didn’t think you’d tell a little girl to cut herself to make herself more attractive! That’s not on me, Dick!”

Dick was so accustomed to the feeling of helpless confusion that was overcoming him that he just nodded sadly.

“Damian,” he started. And then he stopped. “That was very nice of you to try and help your classmate, but, you know, what someone likes in another person is really subjective. Also, don’t ever take anything Steph says to heart. Ever.”

“Hey!”

Damian nodded. “Very well, Grayson.”

“So,” Tim began, “should we just ban Steph from telling Damian things or what?”

Jason shook his head sharply. “No way. She always manages to make something amazing happen. Why would you want to take that away from me?”

“I’m just looking out for Dick,” Tim said.

He was definitely lying. In a weird way, Dick appreciated it.

“What does he matter?” Jason asked.

“That’s hurtful.”

“Shut up, Dick.”

Tim shrugged. “I’m just saying, he doesn’t look like he’ll last much longer. There’s only so many times he can piece together the tattered remains of his sanity and still come out as a vaguely functioning individual.”

“I can’t tell if I’m grateful or not,” Dick murmured.

“Who cares about his sanity?”

“Has anyone ever told you that you’re a horrible person, Todd?”

“Takes one to know one, brat.”

“What about the chocolates?” Cass interrupted, cocking her head slightly.

Dick grimaced. “Honestly? Paranoia is so par for the course I can’t even be bothered.”

“It wasn’t paranoia, Grayson. It was a perfectly reasonable conclusion to make.”

“You do realize that your teacher never warned any of the other classes, right?”

Why did Tim hate him?

Damian scowled. “Don’t be ridiculous, Drake. Andrews may be incompetent, but I doubt she’d let hundreds of people die.”

“You have that much faith in her? What do you think, Jason? Is she that trustworthy? She doesn’t even know the difference between a psychopath and a sociopath; do you really think she’d take a possible threat seriously?”

Tim was destroying his soul. Dick wondered if this was payback for stealing his coffee earlier this morning.

Damian froze.

( _Oh no.)_

“Grayson, we have to-“

“Glitter!” Dick interrupted. “You should probably wash off the glitter.”

Jason was laughing at him, but did Dick care? No, he didn’t. Because Jason was a jerk and working with Tim to ruin Dick’s life.

Damian wrinkled his nose. “Fine,” he conceded through gritted teeth. He pulled his backpack off of his shoulder, rummaging around in it before pulling out two pieces of paper and holding them out to Cass and Steph. “I shouldn’t be giving you this seeing as you perpetually lead me astray, but I refuse to waste my work, even if the whole concept is pointless. The nauseating pink shade is for you, Brown.”

Dick stared, open mouthed.

Actually, everyone was gaping.

Which was really the only reaction anyone could possibly have.

Damian had made the girls Valentine’s Day cards!

Dick could practically feel the stress melting off of him.

This was literally the most adorable thing he had ever seen in his life and he couldn’t believe that he had been dreading sending Damian back to school tomorrow. School made wonderful things happen.

“Awww!” Dick cooed, reaching out and pulling Damian into a hug. “Little D, that’s so sweet! You made them cards! The glitter!”

“Do you have some sort of emotional whiplash?” Tim asked, disturbed.

Dick stuck his tongue out. “Cards, Tim. Cards.”

Dick smiled as Steph and Cass took the cards from Damian. Steph looked shell-shocked and Cass was smiling. Appropriate reactions.

“What? I don’t get one?” Jason asked sarcastically.

Inappropriate reaction.

Dick shot a look at Jason; Jason ignored him.

Damian snorted, pulling out of Dick’s hold and crossing his arms. “Consider yourself lucky I even acknowledge your existence, Todd.”

“Hashtag blessed,” Tim drawled.

Jason barked a laugh. “There’s something wrong with you.”

“Yeah: I hang around all of you.”

“Seriously, guys? Damian just did something really sweet-“

“It wasn’t ‘sweet’, Grayson. It was obligatory.”

“Don’t ruin this for me, Dami. Please.”

Damian rolled his eyes, but acquiesced.

Finally. Someone who cared.

“‘I must admit, you’re only half as useless as I stated, Brown. Don’t get fat off of chocolate.’ Seriously? Seriously?”

Dick grinned. “That’s honestly one of the nicest things he’s ever said about you. That’s great, Dami.”

Damian nodded, preening slightly.

“Is it just me or does Dick have really low standards for Damian?” Tim asked with a smirk.

“I know, right? I mean, I work so hard to lower his expectations, but he still holds me to some ridiculous standard: don’t shoot people, Jason. Don’t steal Tim’s stuff, Jason. Don’t smoke in the house, Jason.”

“Didn’t you quit?”

“You’re really missing the point, Babybird. Also, the way you’re smirking is still making me question whether or not you _conditioned me._ ”

“Oh, it worked? Hmm, I’d be impressed, but Todd isn’t exactly difficult to influence.”

“You knew?!”

Damian rolled his eyes. “It was obvious what he was doing. Though I’m not surprised you didn’t notice.”

“Can we get back to the backhand compliment in my card?” Steph whined.

“It wasn’t any type of compliment; I was stating a fact.”

“See!” Dick said, grinning. “It’s a fact that he doesn’t think you’re as useless as he says! Isn’t that great?”

Steph stared at him. “You’re really reaching, and it’s sad.”

“Everything he does is sad.”

Dick turned, smile dimming slightly. “The fact that the two of you said that simultaneously really hurts, you know that?”

“But if just one of us had said it, it would have been okay?” Jason drawled, arching an eyebrow.

“You’ve got to want better for yourself, Dick,” Tim offered, shaking his head slightly.

“Do you enjoy making me miserable?”

“Absolutely,” Jason affirmed.

“I wouldn’t say I enjoy it; it’s more like a compulsion really. I don’t think I can help myself,” Tim explained with a shrug.

“I’m so done with you all,” Steph interjected. “What does your card say, Cass?”

“‘Though I put no stock in this holiday, I do value you, Cain, so I wish you an enjoyable day.’”

Dick put a hand to his chest. Wow. How was he supposed to handle something that amazing?

He couldn’t.

“Okay, that was actually nice,” Jason said. He looked vaguely scandalized.

“Thank you, Dami,” Cass said, giving him hug.

He wrinkled his nosed, blushing a bit. “Again. It was obligatory.”

( _So. Cute.)_

Cass just hummed lightly.

“Oh, what the heck? Thanks, Dami.” Steph smiled and joined the hug.

Damian looked exasperated, but didn’t bother fighting.

Dick clapped. “That’s perfect. Tim, are you getting this?”

“Uh, no? Why would I?”

Dick stared at him. “You live to make me miserable. That’s your true calling.”

He shrugged again, barely suppressing a grin. “I told you. I can’t control it.”

“I’m taking pictures, Dick,” Jason said.

“Thank you!”

“But you totally owe me.”

Dick pouted. “It’s for the scrapbook!”

Jason shrugged flippantly. “Maybe next time, you’ll pick up the phone on the first ring. I’m totally taking your suit tonight, by the way.”

“Ah! No, you’re not.”

“Yes, I am.”

“Jason, no!”

“Jason, yes!”

“Why do you hate me?”

“If I hated you, I wouldn’t be doing you this favor, would I? We all know I’ll look better in it than you ever could.”

( _Okay, that’s just offensive.)_

“If the two of you get into another competition about who has the better body, I’m recording it and sending it to everyone we know,” Tim said.

“You shouldn’t disseminate obscene materials, Drake. There’s a law against that.”

Dick sighed. Why did the two of them only agree when it came to making fun of him or Jason?

Steph snorted. “I love that you’re not even asking for more context.”

“I have no desire to know what sort of ridiculousness the two of them get into when I’m not around. I have to deal with too much of it already,” Damian said, shouldering his backpack.

“Damian!” Dick protested.

He snorted. “I’m going to go get rid of this _glitter._ You, Cain, and Brown should do the same; you’re covered in it.”

“Whose fault is that?” Steph asked.

“Your own; you shouldn’t have hugged me,” Damian countered.

“Well you shouldn’t have made Valentine’s Day cards!”

“You’re blaming me?”

“You can’t do nice things and expect not to get punished.”

Tim snorted. “And, once again, Steph is sending Damian the wrong messages.”

Jason laughed. “You realize this is the reason why she’s above you on my list of favorite family members, right?”

“Thank goodness. I’d know I was doing something wrong if I were towards the top of your list.”

“Wow.”

“You’re all insane,” Damian muttered, shaking his head and stalking out of the room.

“You realize insanity if hereditary, right? Jason called after him.

“I’m not related to any of you!”

“Where do you think we got it from?”

“Jason, just stop,” Tim ordered. “There’s _no_ logic in your argument.”

“Shut up, Tim.”

Dick sighed. At least he wasn’t alone in his craziness.

“I’m going to go get some cereal. Happy Valentine’s Day, guys.”

“You too!”

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Dick.”

“If you keep eating cereal, you’re going to gain weight and then you’ll have to pass the suit off to me!”

“There’s something wrong with you.”

“ _Shut up_ , Tim. And send me the pictures you took.”

“Nice job holding him by the way.”

“I try.”

Dick rolled his eyes as he made his way to the kitchen, but couldn’t help smiling.

He hadn’t cried after getting the phone call. Nothing was broken. No blood had been shed. _Valentine’s Day cards._

( _Today was a pretty good day.)_


End file.
